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Xate  Dean  of  tbe  /IDeMcal  College 

ot  Syracuse  'Clniversit^ 

Sr.  (iaglor&  faraons  €lark 

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5obn  Grouse  College,  Syracuse,  IRew  l^orh 

Sunbap  afternoon,  October  Sixth 

■fflineteen  "fcunDreD  anD  Seven 

Cbancellor  James  1R.  Bap 

ffiresiDinfl 


®rber  of  JExerdece 


Reading  of  the  First  Psalm 
The  Lord's  Prayer 

Address Acting  Dean  John  W,  Heffron 

Associated  with  him  in  his  profession,  and  at  the 
Medical  College. 

Address ♦    »    .     Honorable  M.  E.  Driscoll 

A  fellow  student  with  him  at  Williams  College. 

Address Professor  Charles  W,  Hargitt 

Associated  with  him  in  scientific  research. 

Address Chancellor  James  R.  Day 


J!ddre$$  of  Acting  Dean  3obn  W.  Beffron 

Mr.  Chancellor  and  Friends: 

This  company  of  men  and  women  would  not  have 
assembled  to  do  honor  to  the  life  and  character  of  an 
ordinary  man. 

The  ordinary  man  is  committed  to  the  earth,  his 
elemental  mother,  and  forgetfulness  begins  at  the 
brink  of  the  open  grave.  Except  in  the  hearts  of  a 
few,  he  is  thereafter  but  a  memory  that  becomes  fainter 
and  fainter  and  is  soon  obliterated :  as  the  widening 
circles  that  momentarily  disturb  the  waters  of  a  pool 
into  whose  depths  a  pebble  has  been  cast  quickly  sub- 
side and  leave  the  surface  placid  as  before. 

But  there  have  been  men  whose  lives  have  come 
into  such  close  contact  with  so  many,  whose  characters 
have  been  so  pure  and  inspiring,  whose  acts  have 
been  so  true  and  without  the  shadow  of  disappoint- 
ment, and  whose  influence  for  the  betterment  of  their 
kind  and  of  their  community  has  been  so  far  reaching 
that  they  can  never  be  forgotten  and  whom  genera- 
tions who  have  come  after  them  have  delighted  to 
honor. 

All  histories  contain  the  names  of  such.  The 
world  has  its  universal  heroes — men  to  whom  it  has 
been  given  to  do  great  things  for  the  good  of  all  human- 
ity. Nations  have  their  heroes  and  by  common  con- 
sent set  apart  sacred  days  upon  which  they  recall 
their   virtues   and   their   services   for   the   inspiration 


and  emulation  of  their  citizens.  Communities  have 
their  local  leaders  whose  characters  and  deeds  are 
memorialized  in  bronze  and  in  marble  and  the  his- 
tories of  whose  achievements,  and  the  lessons  of  whose 
lives  are  taught  to  succeeding  generations.  Great 
Institutions  have  their  historic  men,  and  preserve 
with  loving  care  the  annals  of  their  lives  and  count 
them  among  their  richest  possessions. 

The  College  of  Medicine  of  Syracuse  University, 
under  whose  auspices  we  are  met  together,  has  a 
distinguished  company  of  great  souls  who  have  laid 
down  the  burden  of  their  work  and  have  passed  on 
before.  We,  their  survivors  and  inheritors,  admit  to 
that  noble  company  to-day  one  more  of  the  great  and 
good  and  true,  Gaylord  Parsons  Clark,  who  departed 
this  life  September  i,  1907. 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  of  him  as  gone  from  us. 
The  spell  of  his  presence  is  still  on  us.  We  wait  as 
though  he  was  still  upon  a  journey  from  which  he 
must  return.  But  we  wait  in  vain.  "He  has  out- 
soared  the  shadows  of  our  night."  "He  is  a  portion 
of  that  loveliness  which  once  he  made  more  lovely. ' ' 

Gaylord  Parsons  Clark  was  born  in  Syracuse, 
November  12,  1856.  He  was  the  only  child  of  the 
late  Hon.  Charles  P.  Clark  and  Aurelia  Knowlton,  his 
wife.  From  his  father  he  inherited  the  sturdy  honesty, 
strength  of  purpose  and  industry  which  has  character- 
ized so  many  descendants  of  New  England  stock. 
From  his  mother  he  received  the  gift  of  delicate  per- 
ceptions of  beauty  and  a  graciousness  of  manner  that 
characterized  him  in  all  his  relations  of  life. 

He  was  never  remarkable  for  physical  strength, 


but  maintained  so  good  a  degree  of  health  that  he 
prepared  for  college  here  at  home  and  was  graduated 
from  Williams,  receiving  the  degree  of  A.  B.,  in  1877, 
a  few  months  before  he  attained  his  majority.  Another 
will  speak  of  him  as  a  student,  but  the  fact  that  he  won 
the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  key  is  proof  of  his  scholarship. 

He  entered  the  College  of  Medicine  in  the  Fall 
after  his  graduation  from  Williams  and  received  the 
degree  of  M.  D.  in  1880.  My  acquaintance  with  him 
began  in  those  student  days,  and  I  voice  the  sentiment 
of  all  his  fellow  students  when  I  say  that  he  was  con- 
ceded by  all  to  be  a  student  of  unusual  mental  gifts 
and  the  most  genial  of  companions. 

He  was  made  Instructor  in  Anatomy  in  the  Fall 
of  1880,  and  was  advanced  to  the  full  Professorship 
of  Anatomy  in  1881.  This  chair  he  filled  with  eminent 
satisfaction  until  1892  when  he  was  transferred  to 
the  chair  of  Physiology,  which  position  he  held  until 
his  death. 

In  June  1881  he  married  Miss  Jessie  H.  Suydam 
of  Baldwinsville,  whose  loving  care  made  it  easier  for 
him  to  achieve  so  much  and  made  it  possible  to  post- 
pone so  long  the  termination  of  life  in  a  delicate  body, 
defective  in  the  central  organ  of  circulation. 

During  the  declining  years  of  the  late  Dean 
Didama  Dr.  Clark  was  made  Acting  Dean,  and  upon 
Dean  Didama 's  death  in  1906  he  was  made  Dean  of 
the  College  of  Medicine. 

Such  is  the  brief  record  of  events  in  his  life.  It 
gives  evidence  only  of  steady  and  successful  progress 
in  his  chosen  avocation.  The  practice  of  medicine 
was  irksome  to  Dr.  Clark  and  he  early  found  that  his 


limited  strength  could  not  equal  the  demands  of  a 
successful  practice.  He  was  possessed  of  the  scholarly 
instinct  and  loved  with  passionate  devotion  the  study 
of  the  sciences  related  to  medicine.  He  was  devoted 
to  investigation,  and  year  after  year  spent  his  summer 
vacation  in  Woods'  HoU  in  scientific  investigation  in 
the  Marine  Biological  Laboratory.  He  was  fortunate 
in  not  being  dependent  upon  the  returns  from  personal 
work  for  a  livelihood,  and  early  decided  to  follow  the 
inclinations  of  his  mind  and  devote  himself  to  investi- 
gation and  teaching.  He  was  loyal  to  the  College  in 
which  he  had  been  educated,  and,  although  it  could 
but  inadequately  remunerate  him  for  his  time  and 
services,  he  resisted  the  invitations  to  teach  elsewhere 
and  remained  enthusiastically  faithful  to  us  to  the 
end,  content  to  accept  what  the  College  could  afford 
to  offer. 

Mention  has  been  made  of  his  inherited  sense  of 
appreciation  of  the  beautiful.  He  was  an  ardent  lover 
of  nature,  in  the  usual  acceptation  of  that  term.  He 
had  a  gift  for  sketching  which  he  cultivated  to  so  high 
a  degree  that  his  crayons  became  masterly  interpreta- 
tions in  black  and  white  of  scenes  that  delighted  him, 
and  several  fellow  artists  and  friends  are  proud  pos- 
sessors of  proofs  of  his  skill  with  the  pencil  or  the 
brush.     He  could  have  become  famous  as  an  artist. 

His  use  of  the  camera  was  so  skillful  that  he 
composed  pictures  of  scenes  in  foreign  travel  where 
others  only  secured  photographic  memoranda. 

I  remember  a  wonderful  photograph  of  a  ruined 
temple  in  Greece  which  had  greatly  impressed  me  and 
of  which  I  was  unable  to  secure  a  satisfactory  picture. 


I  asked  him  how  he  got  it.  I  remember  his  simple 
account  of  how  he  waited  day  after  day  to  get  just  ex- 
actly the  light  effect  necessary  for  its  perfect  repro- 
duction, how  he  studied  it  from  every  view  point, 
and,  finally,  on  one  day  of  mingled  cloud  and  sunshine, 
after  hours  of  waiting,  he  caught  it  just  in  its  most 
perfect  light.  This  exactly  illustrates  his  method  in 
everything  he  undertook.  He  was  satisfied  with  no 
result  not  as  near  perfection  as  his  abilities  could 
attain.  The  combination  of  the  artistic  sense  with  the 
scientific  mind  is  most  unusual.  Dean  Clark's  ability 
to  sketch  and  to  make  a  photographic  plate  reproduce 
the  most  favorable  impression  of  an  object  exposed  to 
the  lens  was  of  the  greatest  help  to  him  in  teaching,, 
and  he  made  liberal  use  of  both  in  his  work.  He  was 
a  born  teacher.  He  loved  knowledge  and  pursued  her. 
He  loved  to  delve  to  the  bottom  of  subjects  he  was 
investigating.  He  knew  the  vastness  of  the  informa- 
tion possible  of  attainment  in  every  natural  phenom- 
enon. He  knew  his  own  limitations.  But  he  was  not 
so  overawed  by  his  inability  to  grasp  every  minute 
detail  of  a  subject  that  he  could  not  properly  interpret 
the  great  truths  which  he  had  mastered.  The  success 
of  the  most  erudite  men  as  teachers  is  never  great 
unless  they  can  communicate  with  confidence  that 
which  they  have  attained.  When  he  taught  Anatomy 
he  invested  the  subject  with  a  living  interest  and  was 
wont  to  call  attention  to  the  analogies  between  me- 
chanisms found  in  the  human  body  and  the  applica- 
tion of  similar  principles  in  mechanical  structures 
invented  by  man.  I  remember  especially  his  com- 
parison of  the  two  hip  bones  to  the  twin  screw  pro- 


peller.  Referring  to  this  he  said:  "Here  through  all 
the  ages  has  been  a  suggestion.  It  may  never  have 
inspired  the  thought  of  the  inventor,  the  problem  may 
have  been  solved  in  other  ways,  but  from  such  sug- 
gestions have  flashed  thoughts  rich  in  their  results." 

As  a  teacher  of  Physiology  he  was  particularly 
successful.  He  developed  a  laboratory  for  the  eluci- 
dation of  the  problems  of  physiology  that  is  unexcelled. 
His  ingenuity  devised  methods  of  demonstrating  the 
intricate  structure  of  organs  and  systems  whose  ele- 
ments are  microscopic  in  size  that  made  the  subject 
plain  and  clear  and  easy  of  comprehension  by  every 
mind. 

He  illustrated  the  action  of  the  valves  of  the 
heart  by  mechanical  means  that  almost  perfectly 
reproduced  the  conditions  existing  in  the  circulation 
of  the  living  organism.  He  appealed  to  the  observa- 
tion of  his  students  of  common  things  and  drew  from 
them  homely  illustrations  that  illuminated  the  subject 
under  study.  He  was  quiet  in  his  manner,  persistent 
in  his  purpose  of  making  understood  every  problem 
under  investigation,  patient  with  those  of  slow  per- 
ception, and  inspiring  to  those  more  highly  endowed. 
All  his  students  felt  a  fellowship  with  him  and  none 
ever  was  reluctant  to  ask  him  for  needed  aid. 

He  was  much  sought  as  a  teacher  of  the  subjects 
in  which  he  was  known  to  be  a  master  by  popular 
bodies.  I  have  heard  him  in  a  parlor  with  his  low 
even  voice,  in  words  so  simple  as  to  be  understood  by 
anyone,  accurately  interpret  the  facts  of  science  on 
various  subjects.  To  illustrate  his  style,  permit  me  to 
quote  the  close  of  that  part  of  a  popular  lecture  which 


discussed  the  nervous  system.  "One  night  I  stood  in 
the  heart  of  the  city.  A  rain  which  froze  upon  and 
encrusted  each  object  it  touched  had  been  falhng. 
Illumined  with  the  underglow  of  the  electric  lights 
every  wire  glistened  like  a  thread  of  silver  against  the 
blackness  of  the  night.  It  was  as  if  a  vast  cobweb 
had  been  silently  spun  over  the  deserted  streets.  Had 
one  struck  and  severed  a  group  of  those  silvered 
strands  the  visible  effect  on  the  bewildering  maze 
would  have  been  insignificant;  but  there  would  have 
been  a  result  of  serious  import.  Lines  of  communica- 
tion would  have  been  cut  and  messages  here  and  there 
would  have  failed  or  have  been  prevented. 

"That  web  as  complex  and  as  purposeless  as  it 
looked  had  a  purpose  in  every  line,  but  not  more  than 
the  multiplied  fibres  of  our  own  nervous  system. 
Patient  investigators  with  keen  knife  and  magnified 
vision  are  separating  and  tracing  these  fibres,  now 
breaking  them,  now  stimulating  them,  noting  effects 
and  so  untangling  the  maze,  till  they  can  touch  the 
central  offices  which  receive  the  sensory  impressions 
from  the  periphery,  and  those  whence  issue  the  im- 
pulses which  thrill  the  various  muscles.  And  by 
interpreting  the  symbols  of  disordered  function,  they 
can  locate  the  lesions  that  cause  them  as  surely  as  the 
electrician  can  locate  a  break  in  any  electric  wire,  be  it 
hundreds  of  miles  distant  and  under  the  sea." 

What  illustration  of  a  subject  so  intricate  could 
have  been  more  fitting!  That  represents  the  daily 
style  of  teaching  of  this  gifted  man.  All  of  his  old 
students  will  feel  as  if  they  had  heard  him  speak  as 
these  sentences  have  been  read. 


Such  a  life  is  not  the  result  of  fortunate  circum- 
stances. It  is  due  to  the  intrinsic  worth  of  the  man 
himself.  Gifted,  he  chose  deliberately  to  make  the 
most  of  his  gifts.  He  spared  no  effort,  and  omitted 
no  methods  by  which  those  gifts  could  be  cultivated 
to  the  highest  point  of  efficiency.  Not  forced  by 
grinding  circumstance  to  work  for  his  daily  bread,  he 
laid  down  a  noble  purpose  in  life  and  devoted  his  time 
and  his  talents  to  the  study  and  elucidation  of  the 
fundamental  sciences  of  medicine.  He  was  not  ambi- 
tious for  the  plaudits  of  the  world,  but  was  content 
with  the  consciousness  of  work  well  done  and  with  the 
assurance  that  he  had  the  respect  and  love  of  his  fellow 
students  in  the  faculty  and  on  the  students'  bench. 

His  form  we  shall  never  see  again.  His  voice  can 
never  charm  us  more,  but  the  inspiration  of  his  life 
and  the  influence  of  his  character  shall  never  die. 

"Dust  to  dust!  but  the  pure  spirit  shall  flow 
Back  to  the  burning  fountain  whence  it  came; 
A  portion  of  the  Eternal,  which  must  glow 
Through  time  and  change,  unconquerably  the  same." 


MArm  of  Bon,  m.  €,  Driscoll 

Let  me  thank  the  Committee  in  charge  of  these 
memorial  exercises  for  the  privilege  of  joining  with  you 
on  this  occasion  and  paying  my  humble  tribute  of 
esteem  and  affection  for  my  old  friend  and  classmate, 
Dr.  Gaylord  P.  Clark. 

I  am  invited  to  say  a  few  words  on  his  life  and 
work  in  College  as  an  undergraduate,  and  I  sadly  and 
respectfully  offer  my  testimonial  to  his  successful 
career  as  a  student  and  his  high  character  as  a  man. 

In  the  Fall  of  1873,  thirty-four  years  ago,  the 
deceased  and  I  met  at  Williams  College  as  members  of 
the  Freshman  class.  He  was  from  Syracuse;  I  from 
the  western  part  of  this  County.  That  fact  naturally 
drew  us  together.  Quickly  we  became  acquainted, 
which  acquaintance  developed  into  a  warm  friendship 
and  continued  through  all  the  passing  years.  He  was 
one  of  the  youngest  men  in  the  class,  being  under 
twenty-one  when  he  graduated  four  years  later.  In 
personal  appearance  he  was  neither  very  tall  nor  very 
short,  large  nor  small,  handsome  nor  homely.  While 
he  always  dressed  well  and  in  most  excellent  taste,  he 
was  neither  loud  in  his  style  nor  extravagant  in  his 
apparel.  He  was  then,  as  always,  modest,  retiring 
and  unassuming.  He  did  not  attempt  to  push  him- 
self to  the  front  by  crowding  others  back.  He  was 
not  showy  or  spectacular.  He  did  nothing  for  effect. 
In  our  several  scraps  with  the  abusive  and  domineer- 


ing  Sophomores,  if  he  took  any  part  for  the  honor  and 
dignity  of  '77,  it  was  as  an  inconspicuous  helper.  In 
short,  there  was  nothing  in  his  manner,  deportment, 
personahty  or  appearance  at  that  time  which  would 
distinguish  him  from  the  mass  of  his  classmates.  He 
was  willing  to  wait  until  his  substantial  merits  were 
recognized. 

While  some  of  our  men  took  an  active  interest  in 
baseball,  football,  rowing,  running,,  walking  and  other 
athletic  contests,  he  consumed  but  little  time  or  energy 
in  that  way.  He  was  raised  in  this  city,  and  must 
have  attended  school  quite  steadily  in  order  to  be 
prepared  for  a  classical  course  in  college  at  sixteen. 
His  parents  were  in  comfortable  circumstances,  and 
he  never  did  any  manual  labor  to  harden  his  muscles 
and  develop  a  robust  constitution.  His  four  years 
in  college  were  an  important  period  in  his  physical 
development.  At  that  time  athletics  at  Williams 
were  optional;  but  had  he  been  required  to  pursue  a 
thorough  and  systematic  course  of  physical  training 
under  the  direction  of  a  careful  and  scientific  instruc- 
tor, it  might  have  made  him  a  more  vigorous  man  and 
have  added  years  to  his  life  and  usefulness.  A  reason- 
able amount  of  physical  exercise  should  be  encouraged 
in  college;  while  training  for  contests  which  require 
unusual  strength  and  endurance,  and  all  the  muscle 
and  physical  development  of  which  a  young  man  is 
capable,  uses  up  a  certain  amount  of  reserve  vitality 
and  should  not  be  permitted. 

As  a  student  Dr.  Clark  made  his  mark;  not  espe- 
cially during  the  Freshman  year,  for  I  doubt  if  he  were 
as  well  prepared  in  the  classics  as  some  of  our  class- 


mates  who  came  from  Eastern  preparatory  schools. 
I  distinctly  recollect  that  the  subjunctive  mood  was 
our  Latin  Professor's  hobby,  about  which  I  had  re- 
ceived no  special  instruction;  and  the  varieties  of 
translation  he  could  give  that  form  of  the  verb,  and 
the  number  of  questions  he  could  ask  about  its  con- 
struction, were  to  me  a  revelation  and  bewilderment. 
And  I  think  Clark  suffered  from  the  same  kind  of 
embarrassment.  But  he  quickly  mastered  that,  as  he 
did  all  his  studies,  and  stood  high  in  Latin,  Greek  and 
Mathematics. 

He  was  an  industrious,  methodical,  painstaking 
and  conscientious  student.  He  never  cribbed  or  rode 
the  "ponies."  He  worked  out  every  task,  and  learned 
every  lesson  day  by  day  as  it  came,  and  steadily  grew 
in  self-reliance  and  mental  power.  He  especially  en- 
joyed the  work  in  physics,  chemistry  and  natural 
sciences;  and  when  we  took  up  philosophy,  metaphys- 
ics and  other  intellectual  subjects  in  our  senior  year, 
his  faculties  were  so  well  developed  and  trained  that  he 
had  no  difficulty  in  comprehending  them.  In  the 
second  year  he  did  better  work  and  received  better 
marks  than  in  the  first,  and  during  our  junior  and 
senior  years  he  was  practically  perfect  in  every  recita- 
tion and  examination. 

He  did  not  do  much  work  outside  the  College 
curriculum,  and  I  doubt  if  he  gave  much  time  to 
general  reading.  He  did  not  take  much  interest  in 
debating,  writing  or  speaking,  but  devoted  all  his 
time  and  energy  to  the  regular  college  studies.  He 
did  not  frequently  volunteer  his  own  opinions  or  pre- 
sume that  he  knew  more  than   the  author,   but  he 


stuck  to  the  text  books  and  lectures  and  mastered 
them.  He  was  a  favorite  with  the  President  and 
every  Professor,  for  he  never  gave  them  any  trouble 
and  always  had  his  lesson. 

With  his  fellow  classmates  and  the  student  body 
generally  he  was  very  popular — not  perhaps  in  the 
sense  that  a  masterful  athlete,  a  brilliant  writer, 
speaker  or  entertainer  is  popular.  Every  one  liked 
him,  and  he  had  the  good  will,  confidence  and  respect 
of  all.  He  was  not  hilarious,  nor  a  rollicking  student, 
for  he  was  always  modest  and  unostentatious.  His 
heart  was  warm,  his  sympathies  broad,  and  his  im- 
pulses always  right.  He  never  even  thought  of  in- 
dulging in  those  dissipations  which  destroy  many 
college  students.  He  seemed  to  have  no  temptations. 
His  influence  on  his  classmates  was  marked  and  dur- 
able; not  because  of  any  aggressive  declaration  of  his 
principles  but  on  account  of  his  correct,  sweet,  honor- 
able and  high-minded  daily  life. 

Our  class  held  a  reunion  at  Commencement  last 
June.  He  was  not  there,  and  every  member  particu- 
larly inquired  of  me  about  him,  and  expressed  for 
him  their  high  regard. 

My  admiration  for  my  classmates  is  very  high. 
I  have  never  met  in  this  wide  world  forty  men,  old  or 
young,  rich  or  poor,  high  or  low  who,  in  my  judgment, 
averaged  up  to  my  classmates  in  those  sterling  and 
rugged  virtues  which  go  to  make  up  sound  moral 
character;  and  of  them  all  Clark  was  recognized  as  the 
foremost. 

Nothing  more  can  be  said  by  me.  No  higher 
testimonial  can  be  given  of  my  high  appreciation  of 


him  as  a  student  and  a  man.  He  was  graduated 
from  the  Medical  College  of  this  University  at  the  head 
of  his  class,  and  since  that  time  has  been  associated 
with  that  institution  as  instructor,  professor  and  dean. 
For  thirty  years  he  lived  and  wrought  among  you. 
You  know  of  his  work  and  worth,  and  you  will  agree 
with  me  that  in  his  subsequent  career  he  fulfilled  the 
promise  of  his  college  years. 

I  was  aware  that  he  was  not  in  robust  health. 
But  I  also  knew  of  his  temperate  and  regular  habits, 
and  had  no  idea  that  he  would  not  live  out  the  allotted 
time  of  man  on  earth;  and  the  sudden  news  of  his 
death  came  to  me  as  a  great  surprise  and  shock. 

This  is  a  sad  occasion,  but  we  reverently  bow  to 
the  inevitable.  We  keenly  appreciate  his  great  loss 
to  this  institution  and  to  society,  and  sincerely  sym- 
pathize with  his  bereaved  widow,  the  partner  of  his 
joys  and  sorrows. 


}\mm  of  Professor  CDarles  lU.  Bargitt 

There  are  occasions  when  there  is  an  eloquence  of 
silence  more  fitting  than  that  of  words.  Such  the 
present  seems  as  I  confront  my  personal  relations  to 
it.  I  am  asked  to  contribute  some  estimate  of  my 
lamented  friend  and  colleague  as  a  scientist.  Though 
aware  of  the  inadequacy  of  any  words  of  mine  to  por- 
tray his  worth  as  a  man  of  science,  still  I  can  but  re- 
gard with  gratitude  the  opportunity  to  speak  some 
word  of  personal  appreciation  of  the  man  and  his 
work. 

My  acquaintance  with  Dean  Clark  began  soon 
after  my  appointment  to  the  professorship  of  Biology 
in  the  University  in  1891.  The  acquaintance  then 
acquired  early  ripened  into  the  intimacy  of  a  personal 
friendship  which  has  had  no  change  in  all  the  follow- 
ing years  except  in  the  deepening  and  broadening 
growth  whose  strength  only  became  fully  realized  in 
the  tragic  shock  which  sundered  the  ties.  To  have 
known  him  as  a  man,  to  have  had  his  friendship  during 
these  years,  to  have  shared  his  counsels  and  confidences 
as  a  colleague,  to  have  had  the  splendid  privilege  of 
cordial  and  continued  co-operation  with  him  in  a 
department  of  educational  development  which  must 
stand  as  an  enduring  monument  to  his  memory, — 
surely  these  are  grounds  for  personal  felicitation,  and 
to  have  a  modest  share  in  this  memorial  is  a  further 
occasion  for  gratitude. 


But  all  this  grew  out  of  the  circumstance  that  we 
were  fellow  craftsmen  in  the  realm  of  science.  I  came 
to  know  him  first  and  really,  not  as  a  Doctor  of  Medi- 
cine, not  as  a  professor  of  ability  in  a  cognate  depart- 
ment, but  as  a  man  of  science  actuated  by  those  bonds 
of  scientific  spirit  and  endeavor  which  in  unconscious 
gravitation  link  others  of  kindred  aspirations  and 
motives. 

This  is  not  the  time  nor  the  occasion  for  any 
critical  inquiry  into  the  earlier  conditions  of  educa- 
tion or  environment  which  might  have  conduced  to 
give  impulse  or  direction  to  a  scientific  career.  Suffice 
it  to  say  that  in  those  years  of  his  academic  and  pro- 
fessional training,  that  decade  from  '70  to  '80,  so 
pregnant  with  scientific  life  and  intensity,  that  would 
have  been  a  dull  mind  which  failed  to  gather  some- 
thing of  its  spirit  and  import.  This  must  have  been 
especially  true  of  the  influences  at  work  during  his 
professional  education.  The  epoch-making  biological 
discoveries  of  Pasteur  and  their  far-reaching  relations 
to  medical  advance,  and  the  similarly  daring  pro- 
nouncement of  Lister  which  gave  to  the  world  an 
antiseptic  surgery,  were  just  then  revolutionizing 
medical  thought  and  precept.  And  hardly  had  Clark 
received  his  diploma  when  the  brilliant  Koch  added 
just  the  touch  which  brought  to  birth  that  youngest 
of  biological  sciences,  bacteriology.  These  and 
others  of  like  character  showed  in  a  most  brilliant 
and  convincing  manner  the  all  importance  of  science 
in  general,  and  of  biology  in  particular,  to  the  new 
pathology,  and  foreshadowed  that  new  era  in  which 
medicine  should  be  less  an  art  and  more  a  science. 


Such  was  the  time,  such  the  spirit  activating  the 
very  air  which  he  breathed,  and  which  vivified  his 
thought.  Have  we  not  here  some  suggestion  of  the 
probable  vision  which,  though  yet  dim  and  uncertain, 
was  yet  dawning  upon  his  alert  and  perceptive  mind, 
but  which  finally  came  to  its  full  effulgence  after  he 
entered  upon  his  work  as  teacher  and  professor?  I 
believe  the  whole  subsequent  tenor  of  his  life  bears 
out  this  suggestion,  and  gives  us  the  clue  to  much 
which  would  otherwise  be  obscure. 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the  current  of  our  lives 
became  confluent.  In  early  conference  with  himself 
and  his  colleagues  concerning  new  courses  in  bacteri- 
ology and  embryology,  and  later  as  active  colleague 
in  his  college  faculty,  came  the  opportunity  for  per- 
ceiving the  many  sided  aspects  of  his  life,  but  chiefly 
his  insight  and  appreciation  concerning  science  and 
its  indispensable  importance  in  medical  education.  In 
large  measure  Professor  Clark  anticipated  what  has 
since  become  a  well  recognized  principle  in  every 
reputable  medical  college  in  the  country  at  large. 
And  it  is  to  the  credit  of  his  faculty  colleagues  that 
this  departure  was  so  eagerly  accepted,  and  has  grown 
to  this  day.  He  had  early  perceived  what  has  since 
been  formally  enunciated,  that  efficient  scientific  knowl- 
edge is  available  only  through  the  vitalizing  method 
of  the  laboratory,  and  that  only  from  this  modem 
factor  of  education  may  be  had  that  training  which 
fits  for  both  the  discovery  of  truth  and  its  practical 
application  in  every  department  of  scholarly  endeavor. 

This  Clark  emphasized,  both  in  precept  and 
practice.     The  latter  he  exemplified  in  the  labor  and 


care  devoted  to  the  organization  of  one  of  the  first 
distinctively  laboratory  courses  of  the  college,  and  if 
I  am  not  mistaken  his  was  one  of  the  very  first  in  this 
country  to  provide  adequate  facilities  for  practical 
work  on  the  part  of  every  student,  the  details  and 
designs  of  which  were  largely  worked  out  by  Professor 
Clark  himself. 

But  of  these  phases  of  his  life  I  may  not  further 
speak,  lest  I  usurp  another's  privilege.  Yet  it  were 
hardly  possible  to  say  less  of  this  very  important 
feature  of  his  work  as  a  scientific  man.  It  is  just  here 
that  some  of  the  best  characteristics  of  the  man  of 
science  find  expression.  But  they  are  not  the  only 
illustrations  of  Clark's  application  of  scientific  precept 
and  example.  To  thoroughly  perceive  and  apply  a 
principle  one  must  solve  some  problem  in  which  it  is 
involved.  This  our  friend  proceeded  to  do.  At  an 
early  day  he  found  his  way  to  the  Marine  Biological 
Laboratory.  Here,  1896,  he  carried  on  his  first  tech- 
nical research,  concerned  with  one  of  the  sensory 
functions  of  the  animal  body.  The  results  of  this 
investigation  were  published  in  a  paper  which  ap- 
peared in  the  same  year  and  has  received  favorable 
mention  from  subsequent  investigators.  His  work 
was  continued  in  following  years,  and  he  was  for  some 
time  a  member  of  the  teaching  staff  of  the  laboratory. 

Later  in  Europe  he  continued  his  investigations, 
working  with  the  distinguished  Professors  von  Frey 
and  Verwom  at  the  physiological  laboratories  of 
Leipzig  and  Jena.  Here  as  before  meritorious  results 
were  obtained  and  were  published  in  a  noteworthy 
contribution  to  the  American  Journal  of  Physiology. 


In  these  contributions  may  be  found  clear  evi- 
dence of  those  elements  which  characterize  the  acute 
scientific  mind,  namely,  close  observation,  careful 
comparison,  strict  adherence  to  facts  and  critical 
analysis  and  deduction.  They  reveal  also  the  abso- 
lute intellectual  honesty  and  steady  purpose  of  the 
scientific  man. 

But  these  contributions,  and  the  application 
devoted  to  their  accomplishment,  which  were  not  in- 
significant, do  not  by  any  means  constitute  a  measure 
of  his  scientific  stature  or  strength.  They  do,  however, 
afford  an  insight  into  the  spirit  and  purpose  of  the 
man.  But  here,  as  in  so  many  other  walks  of  life,  the 
man  is  immeasurably  greater  than  his  work.  With 
some  science  would  seem  to  be  an  end  in  itself.  They 
study,  investigate,  laboring  with  commendable  indus- 
try for  the  sole  pleasure  of  the  knowledge, — science 
for  science's  sake,  an  end  far  from  pitiable  or  censur- 
able. Others,  again,  find  in  science  a  ready  road  to 
distinction.  Actuated  by  that  ambition  which  aspires 
to  fame,  they  investigate  and  publish  simply  for  the 
sake  of  achieving  a  measure  of  recognition  from  their 
fellows.  Thus  is  it  even  in  matters  of  graver  moment. 
Some  among  us  espouse  religion  as  an  end  in  itself, — 
the  personal  satisfaction  or  emotional  pleasure  realized 
in  certain  ceremonials  or  observances.  Others  again, 
while  not  oblivious  to  religious  joy,  are  rather  con- 
cerned in  religion  as  an  inspiration  for  service  on  be- 
half of  others, — a  means  of  uplifting  and  ennobling 
human  life,  and  promoting  larger  and  better  concep- 
tions of  human  endeavor.  Now  none  of  these  mo- 
tives is  wholly  discreditable  or  unworthy.     Yet  few 


would  hesitate  as  to  a  verdict  of  the  better  view, 
whether  it  be  in  rehgion  or  science.  And  thus  I  be- 
Heve  it  was  with  our  friend  in  his  attitude  toward 
science.  Estimated  by  his  actual  contributions  to 
scientific  knowledge  he  would  not  be  considered  great. 
But  when  we  estimate  his  scientific  worth  in  terms  of 
its  relations  to  the  larger  problems  of  human  life  and 
weal,  and  hence  to  the  progress  of  medical  methods 
and  standards  and  education,  then  few  of  his  genera- 
tion have  wrought  more  intelligently  or  enduringly 
than  he. 

One  further  phase  of  his  scientific  life  calls  for 
notice,  namely,  his  relations  to  his  collaborators,  both 
personally  and  in  the  organized  institutions  for  the 
promotion  of  science.  He  was  an  active  member  of 
several  well  known  associations,  among  them  the 
American  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science, 
the  American  Society  of  Naturalists,  and  the  Ameri- 
can Physiological  Society.  He  was  a  constant  at- 
tendant of  the  sessions  of  these  bodies  and  took  an 
active  interest  in  their  work.  His  late  trip  to  Europe 
was  prompted  largely  by  his  desire  to  be  present  at 
the  International  Physiological  Congress  in  Heidel- 
berg, a  desire  sadly  cut  short  by  subsequent  events. 
He  was  a  member  and  vice-president  of  the  local 
Academy,  and  only  the  pressure  of  professional  duties 
deterred  him  from  accepting  its  presidency,  which  was 
urged  upon  him. 

His  personal  relations  to  his  collaborators  were  of 
the  most  cordial  and  delightful  character.  Every- 
where his  magnetic  personal  qualities  won  him  ardent 
friends.     I  cannot  forbear  giving  in  this  connection 


extracts  from  a  few  of  many  letters  of  appreciation 
which  have  come  to  my  hands  since  his  death. 

Professor  Erlanger,  of  the  University  of  Wisconsin 
writes:  "It  is  certainly  to  be  regretted  that  the  world 
in  general  and  physiology  in  particular  has  had  to 
suffer  this  untimely  loss  of  Dr.  Clark's  earnest  services." 

From  the  University  of  Michigan  Professor  Lom- 
bard writes:  "It  was  with  a  deep  sense  of  loss  that 
the  friends  and  colleagues  of  Professor  Clark  heard  of 
his  sudden  death.  With  feelings  of  personal  bereave- 
ment was  mingled  the  recognition  that  scientific  medi- 
cine had  lost  one  of  its  most  earnest  workers.  Learned 
in  the  department  of  medicine  which  was  his  specialty, 
he  was  above  all  a  profound  student  of  the  problems 
of  medical  education,  and  devoted  his  best  energies  to 
the  development  of  the  school  of  which  he  was  the 
head." 

From  Columbia  University  Professor  lyce  writes: 
"I  need  hardly  express  to  you  the  sorrow  which  I  felt 
on  hearing  of  Dr.  Clark's  death.  He  was  one  of  the 
men  whom  physiology,  medicine,  and  science  in  rela- 
tion to  medicine,  can  ill  afford  to  lose.  His  concep- 
tion of  those  subjects  was  eminently  broad  and  deep. 
His  longing  for  the  best  in  them  was  shown  early  in 
his  career  when  he  sought  first,  the  laboratories  of  the 
leading  universities  of  this  country;  then  the  Marine 
Biological  Laboratory  at  Woods  HoU;  and  lastly  the 
Physiological  Institutes  of  Leipzig  and  Jena.  .  .  . 
His  conception  of  physiological  problems  was  broad, 
and  his  contributions  to  physiology  were  meritorious 
and  of  permanent  value.  Always  interested  in  the 
problems  of  medical  education,  he  had  in  late  years 


turned  his  attention  more  particularly  to  them.  Here 
again,  as  in  his  physiology,  he  set  before  himself  and 
his  college  high  ideals.  He  recognized  the  value  to 
the  future  physician  of  a  thorough  scientific  training, 
and  largely  to  make  such  training  possible  he  was 
early  instrumental  in  lengthening  the  course  of  the 
medical  student  to  four  years.  Always  upright,  gen- 
uine, honest,  generous  and  broad,  as  Clark  was,  physi- 
ology and  medicine  suffer  a  distinct  loss  in  his  death." 

What  these  have  written,  hundreds  near  and  far, 
at  home  and  abroad,  have  thought  or  spoken. 

One  further  mention  must  conclude  this  tribute. 
We  hear  it  said,  though  with  less  emphasis  or  fre- 
quency than  formerly,  that  science  tends  to  blunt  the 
finer  sensibilities,  or  atrophy  the  esthetic  sentiments 
of  one's  nature.  And  with  more  plausibility  it  is  a 
common  assumption  that  the  scientific  specialist  is 
deplorably  narrow,  correspondingly  conceited,  and  in- 
tolerably intolerant.  Again,  there  is  heard  now  and 
then  the  decadent  and  vanishing  echo  of  that  imag- 
inary conflict  of  science  and  religion,  which  so  harassed 
the  thought  a  generation  ago;  and  one  is  admonished 
not  always  in  whispers,  of  the  glaring  philistinism  of 
the  average  scientific  specialist. 

But  the  answer  to  all  this  is  the  scientist's  appeal 
to  fact, — an  answer  rather  more  pertinent  and  con- 
vincing than  endless  torrents  of  invective  or  declama- 
tion. Not  to  dwell  upon  the  well-known  cases  of 
Agassiz,  Gray,  LeConte,  and  numerous  others  of  their 
like,  it  will  suffice  to  attest  the  subject  of  this  memorial. 
Here  was  a  scientist,  aye,  a  specialist  in  science,  in 
whose  open   and  transparent  life  will  be  recognized 


amplest  refutation  of  all  such  baseless  calumnies.  In 
this  life,  farthest  from  pretense  or  display,  were  con- 
spicuously blended  those  keen  and  critical  instincts 
and  methods  of  the  scientist  and  that  esthetic  sense 
which  revels  in  quiet  rapture  in  the  presence  of  art  or 
music  or  poetry,  and  whose  artistic  tastes  found  ex- 
pression in  the  work  of  his  own  brush. 

Here  too,  with  no  ripple  of  discord  or  confusion, 
those  painstaking  qualities  of  research, — rigid  adher- 
ence to  the  principles  of  the  scientific  method,  and  a 
faith  at  once  simple,  devout,  broad  and  sublime,  were 
intimately  correlated.  His  religion  suffered  no  eclipse 
in  the  presence  of  his  science;  his  science  was  not  em- 
barrassed in  the  presence  of  his  religion.  Does  this 
seem  strange  or  paradoxical?  Pity  for  him  who  thus 
construes  it!  There  is  nothing  of  either.  It  is  rather 
and  simply  the  essential  and  imperative  harmony  of 
all  truth  in  a  soul  large  enough  for  their  comprehension 
and  appreciation. 

Here  then  culminates,  in  my  thought,  the  finest 
exemplification  and  measure  of  the  man.  Strength 
and  courage  blended  with  gentleness  and  generosity; 
critical  and  discriminating  skill  and  methods,  tempered 
by  breadth  and  tolerance;  self-reliant  and  independent 
in  thought  and  action,  yet  trustfully  and  reverently 
devout. 


JTddress  of  ebancellor  3m^$  R.  Day 

I  have  been  requested  to  say  a  few  words  con- 
cerning the  Dean's  relation  to  the  University;  words 
that  scarcely  need  be  said,  so  visibly  has  he  imprinted 
himself  upon  our  work,  and  so  plainly  has  he  written 
his  character  and  ability  upon  the  college  of  which 
he  was  first  a  student,  and  then  a  Professor,  and  fin- 
ally a  Dean. 

I  ask  myself,  what  is  there  that  I  can  say  that  he 
did  not  say  himself?  There  are  men  who  need  to  be 
spoken  for  after  they  are  gone  because  of  some  ob- 
scurity, it  may  be,  in  essential  and  meritorious  work, 
or  because  generosity  and  kindness  would  supplement 
the  eulogy  of  a  work  that  had  not  completeness  and 
symmetry.  But  to  my  thinking  Dean  Clark,  modest  as 
he  was,  and  unpretentious,  wrote  his  work  in  the 
University  upon  every  day  and  week  and  month,  and 
now  that  he  has  gone  it  seems  to  stand  out  before  us 
all  in  italics,  and  everything  that  he  was,  and  every- 
thing that  he  did,  is  emphasized.  I  do  not  care  to 
analyze  him.  I  could  not  analyze  a  flower  that 
delighted  me.  I  could  rejoice  in  its  beauty  and  inhale 
its  fragrance.  I  could  not  analyze  a  friendship  very 
well,  I  could  just  simply  feel  its  power  and  know  its 
loss,  and  so  to-day  I  can  scarcely  tell  you  what  I  think 
of  Dean  Clark  as  a  Dean.  It  would  be  far  more  diffi- 
cult to  do  than  the  task  of  these  my  friends,  who  have 
spoken  of  him  in  the  relation  of  student  and  scientist. 


It  perhaps  would  not  be  possible  for  me  to  make 
you  know  what  a  Dean  is  to  a  man  occupying  the  posi- 
tion which  I  attempt  to  occupy.  That  he  is  something 
more  than  simply  an  executive  officer,  that  he  some- 
how is  yourself  in  your  own  work,  however  independent 
he  may  be  in  his  own  work;  and  how  wonderfully  the 
efficient  man,  and  the  loyal  man,  and  the  devoted  man 
lifts  all  your  burdens  in  his  particular  responsibility 
and  sphere,  and  how  you  come  to  know  that  by  never 
feeling  the  burden  of  his  college,  or  needing  to  ask  any 
solicitous  questions  as  to  what  may  be  doing  there. 
So  great  are  my  blessings  in  these  respective  colleges 
that  I  could  scarcely  give  you  a  just  estimate  of  them, 
but  in  none  of  them  more  fully  and  perfectly  were  those 
things  realized  than  at  the  Medical  College.  The 
man  was  educated  there,  he  taught  there,  he  invented 
and  discovered  there,  he  created  his  laboratory  there, 
and  furnished  many  a  helpful  hint  with  regard  to 
other  laboratories.  He  studied  in  connection  with 
his  fellow  teachers  and  his  associates  all  of  the  phases 
of  the  Medical  College  work,  turning  aside  from  a 
profession  in  which  he  would  have  been  eminently 
skiUful — with  his  traits  of  character  and  his  wonder- 
ful social  gifts  and  adaptations.  He  turned  aside 
from  this  profession  to  help  found  on  new  bases,  and 
rear  in  new  proportions,  medical  learning  in  this 
country,  and  his  work  in  our  Medical  College  became 
the  pride  of  the  Medical  College  as  his  fame  extended, 
and  with  it  the  fame  of  the  college  throughout  the  land. 

He  fell  into  this  executive  work  naturally.  He 
was  the  only  man  the  united  Faculty  could  think 
logically  of  to  succeed  the  great  man  who  had  so  long 


stood  at  the  head  of  that  college.  He  took  up  tliat 
work  without  pretension,  without  demonstration,  and 
yet  so  naturally,  and  so  easily  carried  it  on,  with  so 
little  friction,  that  one  looking  upon  him  and  upon  the 
work  of  the  college  under  him  would  almost  question 
why  it  were  necessary  to  have  a  Dean  at  all. 

To  my  thinking  he  had  the  elements  of  a  great 
man.  I  know  we  are  apt  to  say  that,  when  men  whom 
we  love  depart  from  us,  but  we  dare  to  say  such  things 
of  this  man  we  have  known.  These  gentlemen  have 
not  been  describing  a  man  of  scientific  fame  in  some 
distant  time  or  far  separated  place,  they  have  been 
talking  to  you  about  your  neighbor,  about  a  man  who 
came  and  went  in  your  streets,  and  whom  you  met 
day  by  day,  and  they  say,  and  I  emphasize  the  remark, 
that  he  had  elements  of  greatness.  He  associated  with 
men  of  great  ability  in  the  Faculty  to  which  he  be- 
longed ;  but  they  all  recognized  his  power.  All  of  them 
looked  to  him  in  the  great  work  to  which  he  had  given 
his  life,  and  gave  him  their  confidence  and  esteem. 

There  are  various  ways  that  greatness  displays  it- 
self; intensity  does  not  always  make  the  largest  visible 
display.  You  would  have  said,  here  is  quietness,  here 
is  an  easy  adaptation  to  circumstances,  here  is  a  nature 
that  would  hardly  contest  disputatiously,  here  is  a 
man  whom  you  may  venture  to  take  under  the  control 
of  your  own  superior  will,  and  in  all  of  them  you  would 
be  greatly  mistaken,  and  much  embarrassed,  for  here 
was  a  man  as  modest  as  modesty  and  yet  a  man  of 
great  force  of  character,  great  firmness  of  will,  great 
persistency  in  reaching  his  objective,  a  man  of  strength, 
and  you  felt  that  strength. 


The  electric  current  tears  through  the  clouds  and 
the  separated  atmosphere  returning  crashes  together 
with  a  loud  demonstration  of  the  force  that  has  passed 
by,  and  you  cringe  and  shudder.  It  is  nothing  how- 
ever compared  with  those  pencils  of  light  that  came 
up  over  the  mountain  peaks  in  which  I  have  rejoiced 
the  past  summer,  and  even  an  army's  signal  gun  seems 
to  be  out  of  place  and  out  of  harmony  with  the  rising 
sun  and  its  silence  tells  no  adequate  story  of  its  power 
but  you  perceive  it  a  little  after  in  blooming  flowers, 
in  awakening  bird  notes,  in  the  stirring  industries  of 
men,  in  the  mighty  movements  of  those  gigantic  forces 
that  make  the  seasons  of  the  earth. 

There  are  men  who  move  in  this  world  and  with 
their  activities  make  large  demonstrations,  peculiar 
natures,  peculiar  circumstances,  peculiar  relations  to 
things,  and  by  these  you  measure  them  and  think  they 
are  great.  There  are  other  men  who  move  out  into 
the  world  silently,  almost  voicelessly,  the  things  they 
do  seem  so  easy  and  natural,  and  are  done  so  quietly 
that  any  one  could  do  them,  but  after  a  little  you  look 
into  the  sum  of  it  all,  and  the  sum  of  it  takes  the  magni- 
tude and  shapes  it  into  grandeur  and  you  get  the 
measure  of  the  man  in  the  mighty  things  that  will  re- 
main and  bless  the  world  long  after  he  has  gone,  and 
such  things  are  the  measure  of  our  good  Dean.  Other 
men  were  heard  further,  other  men  were  seen  farther, 
but  such  men  will  not  live  longer,  and  such  men  will 
not  live  in  greater  things.  Other  men  whose  names 
perhaps  are  known  around  the  circuit  of  the  globe  are 
rendering  their  tribute  to  him  as  a  worthy  associate, 
as  a  man  whose  death  is  to  be  profoundly  lamented, 


and  I  measure  him  that  way,  and  I  say  to  you  that  his 
relation  to  the  University  in  his  character,  in  his 
scholarship,  in  his  executive  ability,  in  his  loyalty,  in 
his  devotion  to  his  work,  in  his  diplomatic  gifts,  in 
handling  the  Faculty  and  students, — in  his  social  life, 
in  all  these  things  his  relation  to  the  University  was 
one  of  immense  value,  and  the  prize  thereof  will  re- 
main for  generations  to  come  as  a  legacy.  That  is 
what  helps  me  this  afternoon. 

When  I  am  able  to  look  into  the  face  of  death 
across  the  campus  over  yonder  where  the  dust  is  at 
rest  I  am  able  to  look  into  it  all  and  say  you  did  some 
things  to  us  that  we  terribly  lament,  and  over  which 
we  weep;  you  did  take  away  from  us  that  which  we 
value  beyond  price,  and  you  have  wounded  us  deeply, 
and  our  loss  cannot  be  estimated;  but  there  are  some 
things  that  you  cannot  do,  and  you  did  not  do,  and 
you  never  can  do  while  the  generation  shall  pass.  He 
lives  with  us,  he  abides  with  us,  his  form  went  out 
from  us,  his  voice  you  hushed.  The  fire  of  his  eye 
failed,  we  do  not  see  him  any  more  in  the  person  in 
which  he  lived,  but  he  abides  with  us,  his  essential 
self,  and  will  abide  with  us  forever.  There  is  more  of 
our  Dean  with  us  than  there  is  in  the  grave,  and  the 
cause  of  medical  learning  will  be  greater  because  he 
lived.  The  Medical  College  of  the  University  will  be 
greater  for  the  generations  to  come  because  he  lived. 
Death  could  not  take  that  away,  and  it  never  can  be 
taken  away.  Because  of  him  we  came  earlier  to  what 
we  are.  We  came  to  what  we  are  in  greater  propor- 
tions, we  are  what  we  are  in  a  better  sense  than  we 
would  have  been  without  this  man. 


Men  of  the  faculty  who  labored  with  him,  and 
still  other  men  are  in  our  thoughts  who  were  with  him, 
and  these  men  would  unite  in  testimony  with  us  that 
death  could  not  take  from  us  that  which  was  the 
greatest,  and  the  most  treasured,  and  the  most  honor- 
able of  our  great  Dean, — the  personality  that  lives. 
That  is  immortal. 

I  have  been  profoundly  interested  in  these  papers 
which  have  been  read,  and  I  said  to  myself  when  the 
last  paper  finished,  was  he  all  of  that?  I  should  like 
to  be  all  of  that.  Was  my  friend  and  your  friend  all 
of  that?  I  said,  yea  verily  he  was  all  of  that,  and  he 
was  immeasurably  more  than  all  of  that,  for  he  was 
that  which  human  voice  cannot  express,  which  cannot 
be  portrayed  to  you,  which  cannot  be  made  visible  to 
you.  There  were  the  very  elements  of  character,  there 
were  the  very  proportions,  but  more  than  all  that, 
there  was  the  mightiest  personality,  there  was  the 
flower  and  its  fullest  force,  beauty  and  fragrance, 
which  was  the  vital  bloom  of  these  things  which  have 
been  so  admirably  set  forth;  and  so  in  my  thought, 
there  was  a  man  who  was  all  that  has  been  described, 
yet  a  man  who  was  infinitely  more,  one  that  I  wish  I 
were  able  to  portray  and  describe  to  you,  whom  I 
knew  and  felt,  whose  life  is  now  a  presence  with  me, 
that  never  can  be  described,  that  never  can  be  known 
imtil  we  know  as  we  are  known,  and  see  as  we  are 
seen,  and  behold  him  in  his  spirit  personality  out  of 
our  spirit  eyes  and  with  our  spirit  minds. 

I  think  of  him  often.  I  look  for  him.  I  have 
instinctively  reached  out  for  the  instrument  upon  my 
desk  to  hear  him  more  than  once.     Alone  I  have  looked 


through  the  mist  of  tears  and  I  have  wondered,  I 
asked  the  question,  Oh,  God,  why  didst  Thou  do  this 
when  there  were  so  many  in  the  world  worthless? 
But  the  answer  is,  what!  Thou  knowest  not  now, 
thou  shalt  know.  God's  plans  are  immeasurable. 
He  is  greater  than  man,  and  above  human  affairs,  we 
put  our  trust  in  Him  and  we  must  look  forward  and 
trust  Him. 

The  University  has  met  with  a  great  loss.  I  will 
not  attempt  to  measure  it.  A  man  so  wonderfully 
adapted  to  this  work,  a  man  whose  very  home  was  in 
his  work  and  was  our  home  for  his  work,  for  no  two 
lives  ever  dwelt  in  sweeter  harmony,  and  in  more  one- 
ness than  these  two  lives.  No  man  had  greater  pride 
in  wife,  no  man  had  any  more  loyal  companion  in  his 
scientific  work  and  research,  following  him  to  the 
laboratory,  helping  him  as  best  she  could  in  the  medical 
Deanship,  sympathizing  with  him  in  every  aspiration, 
and  rewarded  always  with  the  delightful  confidence  of 
love.  Things  too  sacred  for  me  who  knew  much  of 
this  inside  life  to  voice  here  upon  this  occasion.  Oh, 
it  does  seem  so  strange,  and  here  is  where  the  test  of 
our  faith  comes  in.  What  he  was  for  us,  we  will  try 
to  be,  and  what  he  left  for  us,  we  will  try  to  do;  and 
the  ideals  which  he  wrought  out, — and  the  ideals  which 
he  told  some  of  us  that  have  not  yet  been  realized  we 
will  try  to  realize. 

We  will  appreciate  that  for  which  he  stood  which 
was  one  of  the  greatest  of  all  possible  interests  that 
could  be  committed  to  the  minds  and  hands  of  men, 
the  care  and  development,  the  mending  and  the 
strengthening  and  the  perpetuating  of  this  physical 


structure  for  the  work  of  this  mind  and  soul  with 
which  the  Almighty  has  endowed  us.  He  will  not  be 
forgotten.  The  unselfish  man  is  not  to  be  forgotten, 
and  in  some  future  time  when  great  names  are  written 
into  the  College  of  Medicine  of  the  Syracuse  University, 
great  founders'  names,  great  Professors'  names,  great 
Deans'  names,  there  will  be  written  high  above  them 
and  chiselled  deep  for  the  ages  to  come,  the  name  of 
Gaylord  Parsons  Clark. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  say  more,  possibly  having 
spoken  longer  than  I  ought  to  have  spoken,  but  not 
longer,  or  of  things  more  than  ought  to  be  uttered  of 
such  a  life  and  such  a  work. 


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.    «o   Tor  the  late 
l\  ^  "^^^VtXluVx  collese  of       " 


'i^^fi 


